Incompetence
by TyrantChimera
Summary: Albert, Master of Legion, makes an unexpected discovery. Together with his servants Pandora and Prometheus, he sets out to explore the enigmatic Area N, unaware of what sleeps within... oneshot.


Albert was a mastermind. One of three leaders of the world's government, Legion, the sagely Master knew no equal when it came to plotting. Running the world on one hand, while simultaneously preparing to destroy it with the other. He schemed to rule alone, unchallenged as the lord of all. As far as he was concerned, there was no one alive on the planet that was his peer.

It happened when his servant Pandora was helping the corrupted leader of a power company, a man named Serpent, retrieve an artifact called Model W. She had found an unknown recess of the underground lair where the biometal was stored. Albert was intrigued. It was not him who had placed that extra area there. Model W was a marvel of technology he'd shaped from the ruins of a crashed space cannon and the soul of a truly terrifying and evil mind. It was able to 'mega merge' with certain hosts, giving them power in order to achieve its own ends through them. Perhaps a predecessor, or someone else involved with the dark biometal's past, had also found the location and set up the unknown lair nearby? He had to know, especially if the secrets to Model W and megamerging were at stake.

His 'favourite' servants were currently occupied, but patience was a virtue. Once Serpent succeeded or fell in his plot to gain power with the Model W, it would be a matter of time until he could have the area investigated.

The snake, sadly, fell in the duel with the Model ZX Mega Men, a member of the volunteer protectors of peace, the Guardians. A wrench in the works of his plans, what with their entirely too justice-based outlook on life. Regrettable, but not unexpected. Feigning interest in seeing the gigantic city nearby, Area C, stabilized after the fall of their power company's leader, Albert traveled to the region. Between political maneuvering, helping the Guardians after they'd so neatly foiled a part of his plans, and public talks aplenty (oh how he hated those), he managed to slip into the surrounding forest, citing a need to see the area's diversity to better understand just what was to be protected. Or whatever else nonsense the media would eat up, really. He met up with his servants halfway through the cavernous Area M. There, he noted something peculiar about the cavernous landscape.

"How odd. I do not recollect the green mineral formations in this area."

Promtheus stared at him with pure venom. Then the servant know far and wide as the Grim Reaper looked at the surroundings with a snort. Pandora, renowned as the Witch, was silent as ever. But it was true. Where previously the stone had held a bluish tone, now it seemed filled with green, mica-like formations. The crash site of Ragnarok had changed significantly since he'd last seen it, which was not something he understood stone to do on such short notice.

Bah. Whatever. Geography was more the specialty of that boring old Mikhail, anyways. And the last thing he needed to be doing now was asking his fellow Master of Legion about a few rocks. The trio moved on.

Further exploration found them at the transportation server installed to help with mining the Model W from the surrounding bedrock. Cables connected it to the miraculously still-functioning power plugs of the space cannon's walls, but with the Model W core removed from the region, it was only a matter of time until the energy faded and the server would prove unusable. The blue-haired Master of Legion ignored it. He stared down the door in front of him, musing aloud.

"Strange. I don't recall this being installed by myself or Serpent. Was it one of you?" he asked the siblings nearby. Pandora shook her head in response, her gaze avoiding him as much as possible. Albert frowned, "Did you not even investigate? You know about as much of this area as I do."

Pandora shook her head again. Her brother piped up indignantly. "No, I'm pretty sure we had the whole 'unearth it as fast as you can with no distractions' order hovering over our heads, _Master_. You know, the one _you_ gave us?"

"And what if the ZX had come in here in the meantime?" Albert growled.

"Distracted... by Area O's burning..." Pandora finally said.

Ah, right. Area O. The residential district Serpent had ordered to be attacked while he set up his miserable failure of a plan. Still, it had admittedly been a good distraction for the goody two-shoes Guardians. They'd run right off to the rescue without giving Area M, or the odd door, another blink.

Which, of course, left Albert as much time as he desired to explore the abnormality in the area.

Opening the door resulted in a plume of greenish dust billowing out from the dimly lit interior. Albert snorted in disdain and continued, ignoring the odd, unsettling feeling that began to permeate the area. He and his servants pressed on, the Reaper and the Witch ever at the corners of his eyes as if awaiting the earliest opportunity to betray him. Not that they could; they would be signing their own death sentences thanks to how he'd designed them.

Pressing on, the trio found themselves traversing a long hall. A few minor mechaniloids were no hindrance to Albert with two Mega Men at his side. What did give him pause was the absolutely unearthly abomination at the end of the hall. It was like a whole new world, a sky (in the underground? A sky!?) with a black sun oozed, and crystals floated eerily. Then Albert brought himself to his senses, huffing.

"A fine illusion, but nothing more. Let us continue"

Had he been more observant, he might have noticed Prometheus curiously tapping at one of the floating crystals. The motion started it spinning slowly, like a pinwheel in a gentle breeze. He caught the eye of his sister, and they exchanged grimaces.

"Not an illusion?"

"Not an illusion."

Albert heard none of this whispered conversation of course, and if he did, he cared not to remember it. All he was concerned with was how the pair fell back obediently behind him, their grudge towards him temporarily set aside due to curiosity and caution. But they were still behind him, letting him lead the way. Cowardly fools.

A wall stood before them. Albert merely summoned some Model W fragments, previously hidden in his robes, and let them levitate him safely past the disappearing blocks and sharp spikes in the way. Pandora floated over as well, Prometheus preferring to teleport onto one of the blocks, then onto a safe platform on the small plateau behind the wall.

Said safe platform was a rather unfortunate mechaniloid with a flat head and the complete inability to damage anything not in front of it. It blinked a few times, but could do little to the scythe-wielding Mega Man on top of it. By the time Albert floated down from above, Prometheus had grown bored of the mechaniloid and dispatched it. Instead, the group now looked toward the entirely too large (even for Albert's tastes) spike pit.

Pandora and Prometheus didn't spare a moment. The duo were already warping across before Albert even had time to strategize how to cross, and now stood smugly on the other side, as if daring him to mess up. He internally laughed, because there was no way he was going to do something so undignified as mess up a simple crossing across a spike pit.

Which, as it turns out, he did. Three quarters of the way across the pit he almost collided with a platform as it appeared in front of him, nearly knocking him from his levitation. The Model W fragments covered his fall, however, and he crossed without further incident.

Albert neatly ignored the pouty stares from his underlings. "Well then. Shall we?" He opened the singular door in front of them, as there was nothing else in the landing across the pit and he was loathe to even acknowledge his small slip-up.

The next room was truly surreal. Albert calmly walked into it, his robes trailing behind him far more elegantly than his two unwilling lackeys. Slinking around him, they observed the room far more intently than Albert did. But Albert only had eyes for the single, lone figure standing there emotionlessly. A full minute passed with the two staring each other down. Pandora and Prometheus stayed to the outskirts of the place, avoiding the collapsed walls to either side. In fact, only two walls seemed stable in the whole place; the one with the door they had come through, and the one on the far side of the room behind the red maverick standing before them.

Red eyes blinked. Emotionless, yet somehow still curious. "I recognize your genetic signature. But not you."

Albert sneered at the brute's clipped tone. Some random maverick in a hole in the ground, one that looked like the dratted model ZX no less, was staring down at him? Absurd! "I should be asking you that. I am the Master of the world government, Legion! But lest I forget my manners, may I ask who or what you are?" And more importantly, thought Albert, whether or not I'm going to have to have you killed on the spot for seeing me with Prometheus and Pandora. The two were widely known as dangerous mavericks, killers of the worst degree. His reputation would be shot if anyone figured out that they worked solely for him.

The blonde maverick seemed to give this question some thought. His response was quiet, noncommital. "Waiting."

"Hmmm?"

"I await my Lord. You... and your genetic signature. All three of you. Show me proof."

The siblings, who had given disgusted snarls at the thought of some random maverick so diligently awaiting a master to serve (and oh how it pleased Albert so see them writhe with so much hate), stopped pacing. Prometheus growled, "Proof of what? All this time in a cave addled your brains?"

The figure blinked again. So far, he was showing no signs of aggression. " _Proof_. You know what kind, if you have it. Show me."

Albert brought himself to his full height, smiling malevolently, "Proof? Foolish one, you'll see proof!" And with that he brought out the Model W fragments, the dark biometals orbiting him and radiating power. "This is proof. Proof of my power! Bow to me, or suffer the consequences!"

The model Ws glowed brighter. They brightened, dimmed, and brightened, and dimmed, flashing on and off slowly as they exerted their influence. And when they glowed, so did the maverick's eyes and the gem in his forehead, thrumming in a toxic beat. Pandora's hands clenched around her staff, Prometheus stepping closer to her. The pair watched anxiously.

And then, the maverick's eyes lit up like fire. His gem and eyes glowed so brightly that they dazed Albert's gaze. Because of this, he missed the snarl on the maverick's faced, missed his senses quailing as the world around him flickered with memories and malice. He missed Pandora and Prometheus cowering (and they _never_ cowered) as reality itself seemed to warp. All Albert saw was the omega symbol hidden in the forehead gem of the maverick as its red eyes slowly dimmed to normal.

The maverick had stiffened. His lips barely concealed too-sharp teeth, like a wolf snarling at an unwanted intruder. "Your proof is insufficient."

Albert was taken aback. He snorted derisively at the obvious incompetence of the maverick before him, "Prometheus was right. Truly, your mind must be addled. Do you not sense my power before you, the power of a god?" Albert reared, smugly staring down at the shorter being before him, "I rule over these model Ws." He gestured to his biometals. Then he gestured to the siblings, "I rule over them. And soon, I will rule over all. The power of these biometals makes me a god, lets me write destiny! Destruction heeds my call! And you? What of you? A small, insignificant being simply waiting for a long-dead lord of nothing to return?

The eyes of the maverick narrowed, "Your proof. Is. _**Insufficient**_. I recognize these... Model Ws. I recognize your DNA. But I do not recognize _**you**_." His voice took on a strange tone, "If destruction is destined to follow you as you say, then return. Return when you have proper proof. I will not harm you as you go. But for now, I will wait." He folded his arms, scowled, and spoke no more.

"Then wait here and rot. I have no need of you. When my divinity is secured, I may return just to see you writhe." Albert, thoroughly annoyed by the maverick's stubborness and stupidity, decided to leave. That thing was no threat to him, as it had stated. He rendezvoused on the other side of the door into the chamber with his minions.

"I shall leave ahead of you," he stated, "the last thing we need is for some meddlesome media-man from Area C to spot us together. Stay here for at least an hour, then leave without being spotted. Am I clear?"

"Whatever _boss_ ," Prometheus sneered, not looking at the Master. He and his sister did watch the blue-haired man leave however, much to their eternal chagrin and relief.

"Spikes pits and stupidly annoying blocks. Gonna bet you a dime to a dollar that the loser steals _that_ idea, and all the credit for it," Prometheus huffed. Pandora chuckled beside him, idly whacking one of the aforementioned platforms with her staff shortly before it disappeared.

"What should we... do for an hour?" Pandora wondered aloud.

"If we try and sightsee around here our brains'll melt. Physics decided to scrub whatever the heck is happening here." The Reaper's retort sent Pandora chuckling again. The Witch floated towards him, playing with her staff.

"Should we try to... go see that maverick again? He didn't seem that aggressive. And we... could always warp out if he becomes troublesome."

"Eh, sure, better than nothing."

The two headed back inside. The red maverick still stood in the same spot as always, but upon seeing the pair, cocked his head in curiosity. "Did your master send you to eliminate me?" he asked idly.

"What? Nah, he's left already. We just came here to hang out," Prometheus snorted. He clearly held no respect for such a foolhardily loyal maverick.. "So, still waiting for an old master, huh? What kind of suck-up do you have to be to wait for... how long?

"Several centuries at this point," replied the reploid, calmly ignoring his audience's raised eyebrows, "but I am programmed to await his commands. Without an order, I am... somewhat restricted in movement." The reploid seemed uncomfortable with speaking at length, but for whatever reason, seemed to make an effort at it anyways. The siblings wondered why.

"Oh. Wait. Programming? Ugh, that... sucks," Prometheus growled. "That kind of programming of a sentient being has been illegal for a long time. War-crimes and all that. You know, the fun stuff." Prometheus was being more talkative than usual too, to think about it. Pandora smiled though, because she knew it was because they rarely had such down time. Especially down time to chat with someone that wasn't each other, or trying to kill them.

"It was very common in the eras in which I was both programmed and upgraded," the reploid continued boredly, interrupting her thoughts on the matter.

"When was that?"

"20xx and 22xx respectively."

Prometheus whistled and his eyebrows shot up even higher. He'd been genuinely impressed by that, especially considering it was at least 200 years later than one of the aforementioned dates.

"You are very old," Pandora noted. Most reploids, sentient robots as they were, were never over 200 years due to Legion laws, previous wars before Legions, and general wear and tear. 20xx was... an era well before many wars that had claimed the lives of most of the reploid populace. To have survived that long was phenomenal. Come to think of it, were reploids even around that long ago?

"Hmm" the maverick answered noncommittally, once again breaking Pandora's chain of thoughts.

"So, uh..." Prometheus started in an attempt to change the subject, "this master... is that why you were going on about genetic data earlier?" The ability to detect genetic signatures at a distance was... a little unusual. And intimidating, as far as the siblings were concerned.

"Indeed. It is my duty to protect him and follow his orders. I don't know why you all have his genetic signature though. As long as you don't start something, I won't hurt you. It would go against my programming." Ah. That might explain the talking. He maybe felt obligated to speak to someone who held the same DNA as his master. Although that would mean he might be related to Model W, the only DNA they shared entirely in common between them and Albert. It was a whole new possibility for the siblings to explore someday.

The two servants became more relaxed around this strange maverick, understanding that he was not some mindless minion, but held to restrictions, somewhat like them. Prometheus hummed in boredom, "So what kind of due provocation would cause you to attack us, huh?"

"I will not attack you." the maverick started, but clearly he'd begun to get frustrated, "not without you proving a threat to me or my lord."

Prometheus had a grin on his face, Pandora realized. The grin that meant he was into mischief. "So even if I wanted to, say, spar with you, me saying it's just a spar would mean that I'm not actually a significant threat, right?"

The maverick had grown silent, narrowing his eyes. The next words he said finally had some emotion to them, and it was the kind of emotion that made anyone hear it get a chill up their spine.

" **Don't**."

Prometheus did. He warped in close to the maverick, his scythe at the ready and a wild whoop escaping his mouth. The next thing either of the siblings knew, he was headfirst in a wall on the other side of the room. And he had _definitely_ not warped there.

Pandora gave a small gasp and clutched her staff to her chest, startled. But Prometheus pulled himself out of the wall without a care in the world, his grin even wider despite the debris he accidentally brought out with him. "Oh. Oh it is _on_! We are going to have a great _spar_!" he growled, grinning insanely at the thought of a good fight. Pandora wasn't sure if they actually were going to spar or just full-on go for it judging by her brother's words, but she hoped that the maverick wasn't going to pick up on that little subtlety. Especially since she was getting eager for this too.

In the middle of the room, the maverick just twitched. His face split into an insane grin that even Prometheus couldn't match, and he began haltingly laughing. "Ha. Ha... hah hah... ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Ware wa messia nari!"

Truly, there was nothing sane in Area N that day.

A full day later and dangerously close to their pre-programmed expiry, Pandora and Prometheus finally reappeared before Albert. His brows shot up at their disheveled appearances. It looked like they had taken on both Model ZX Mega Men, the deceased Giro, and Serpent, fully megamerged, all at the same time. "What on earth have you been up to?" He queried grumpily. After all, it was going to be up to him to fix them.

The two servants looked at each other sheepishly. "We had some... difficulties... in Area N," Pandora finally stuttered out.

Albert frowned. "The maverick?"

The pair quickly shot each other another look, and something passed between their eyes. Albert, proud as he was, could have no idea that they were wondering about the possibilities of him versus Omega (the maverick had given them his name, after a good-natured and thorough kicking of their sorry behinds), or the possibility of Albert getting his hands on the ancient reploid. Whatever passed between his servants, he knew not of it. All he got was the end result; a very small, very much half-whispered excuse.

"...Spike pit"

At that, Albert rolled his eyes, snorted, and only offered a suitably hypocritical scolding as the two queued up for repairs and renewed life cycles.

"Incompetent, the pair of you."


End file.
